


The Monster

by nohappinessfanfics



Category: K (Anime)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, ReiSaru - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-13
Updated: 2018-07-13
Packaged: 2019-06-09 21:48:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15276891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nohappinessfanfics/pseuds/nohappinessfanfics
Summary: Munakata is not okay after the events transpiring after Ashinaka High. Fushimi is convinced of this even if his Captian assures him all is well.





	The Monster

Ship: ReiSaru (Reisi Munakata/Saruhiko Fushimi)

Series: K

Rating: PG-13/T

Words: 5,447

Warnings: Post season 1, bleeding a bit into the movie timeline, so, spoilers. PTSD. Implied sex.

The Monster

Jeanette Diaz Michel

He hadn’t noticed the first few months, but he should have. He should have especially after that night. Fushimi remembered the cheering of his clansman and the look of relief on Awashima’s face when Munakata emerged from the bridge. The air was misty with cold, and their breathing still made small white clouds in front of them. The soft snow slowly drifting down.

The Red clansmen were still chanting even though Fushimi could hear them moving. His heart was pounding even though he didn’t understand why. He was staring at his King, alive. He wasn’t sure what to feel. He didn’t feel the triumph the others felt nor the pain HOMRA did. He simply…was…

It was the look on his Captain’s face that startled him. His slender features still elegant and poised, his pale skin even more so in the cold. Small clouds of breath coming steadily. But it was the look of detachment that did it. It was a look Fushimi hadn’t seen before. Munakata was always a master of hiding his feelings, either he hid them really well or he didn’t understand how others perceived him. But the blankness there was new; and it was alarming.

When Munakata’s purple eyes turned and caught sight of Fushimi, his heart jumped at being caught. Munakata’s eyes became soft, and a small smile broke his lips. Not a happy one. Just a reassuring one. He was reassuring Fushimi. It was almost as if that ghosted expression on his King’s face hadn’t been there, and Fushimi wasn’t sure what to do with that information.

The trip back to Scepter 4 was a blur. Fushimi recalled his Captain and Awashima both giving orders. With their headquarters blown to bits, they had much work ahead of them, but Munakata wanted them all to get rest. Anything that needed cleaning or salvaging and reports from the night’s incidents could wait until the morning.

The building was quiet quickly as others took care of anything immediate but then went to sleep as ordered. Something gnawed at the back of Fushimi’s mind as he walked down the dark corridors to his room. His mind wandered briefly to Yata and Mikoto. He had to bite back the irritation that formed. This was all Mikoto’s fault, after all. Fushimi tried to brush away the thoughts; after all, there was no use being mad at a dead man.

Fushimi had stopped in his tracks. He stood there in the dark, empty hallway for a moment before he turned back. He made his way down the long corridors until he reached Munakata’s door. He opened it without knocking before he could think to do so.

“Captain?”

Munakata turned to look over at him. His expression wasn’t startled. It was as calm and composed as ever. He stood beside his desk unfastening his sword and setting it down on his desk. Fushimi stood there and stared at him, his heart pounding. The image of Munakata’s expression flashed before his eyes for a moment.

“Fushimi-kun, is there something wrong?”

“I should be asking you that.” Fushimi snapped back, and he winced internally at how harsh those words had come out.

Munkata was unfazed. Instead he smiled and let out a soft chuckle. He turned his attention back to the sword on his desk. Though his expression was composed, Fushimi was sure he saw a ghost of the same expression as earlier cracking through that mask. His Captain’s perfectly trained façade crumbling.

“Everything is fine, Fushimi-kun. No cause for alarm or worry.”

He barely heard the words. Fushimi’s eyes were trained on Munakata’s right hand. It was covered in a dark crimson, almost brown, color. The sight made Fushimi’s stomach roil. Mikoto’s blood. He was still covered in Mikoto’s blood. Fushimi looked up to see his Captain staring at him questioningly.

He stood there for a moment before hastily making the distance between them disappear. Without thinking Fushimi reached over and held Munakata’s hand. It made his heart jump, especially feeling and smelling the rusty and iron of the blood.

“Captain, _you_ are not alright. You can’t be after that.”

Munakata’s eyes were steady, gleaming against the silver moonlight streaming in. “I assure you, I am quite well at compartmentalizing.”

When he tried to pull away, Fushimi made a noise.

“Tsk.”

He let his Captain go, only to grab his elbow and drag him to the nearest bathroom. Munakata went along without protest, but his expression was perplexed.

“You are not fine, and even if you were, you are still _bleeding_.” Fushimi said.

“Oh.” It was all his Captain could muster.

As if the cut between his ribs didn’t cause him any pain, and in truth, Munakata had completely forgotten about it and felt nothing.

“Here….” Fushimi said, uncharacteristically gentle.

He lead his Captain to the sink and turned on the water, he helped him wash his hands. Munakata stared at the swirls of red going down the drain. It was somehow both beautiful and horrific. Fushimi looked up and watched his Captain’s face carefully, but it gave nothing away. Once they had washed all of Mikoto’s blood away, Fushimi felt the very small trembling in Munakata’s hands. It made his stomach knot up and his throat tighten.

“Take off your jacket.”

Fushimi instructed and helped his King to do so. He should have known something was wrong as soon as then. Munakata hadn’t made a snarky remark on how Fushimi was being so demanding. Fushimi inspected the would on his King’s side and cleaned it of any dirt or glass or ruble shards. He disinfected it and provided a careful stitching. Something to at least patch Munakata up and last him until tomorrow. He washed his hands after bandaging him up.

Munakata smiled at him, “Very well done, Fushimi-kun.”

“Thank you, sir.” It was all he really could say as he straightened up and dried his hands on a towel. “Are you in pain? Should I get you something?”

Taking his bloody and torn coat, Munakata shook his head. “No. This works quiet well, thank you. Get some sleep.”

Fushimi nodded, and as Munakata left, he patted Fushimi’s cheek. The touch sent Fushimi’s heart racing erratically, and he inhaled sharply. He found he didn’t dislike the touch or unwelcome it, but Munakata had never done something like that before. Fushimi stared and blinked blankly at the now empty doorway.

He found that he couldn’t sleep, his mind unable to forget what had happened, but the next morning everything was normal, as if nothing had happened. Munakata first made sure anyone injured, though the King was the only one who actually needed attention, was seen and taken care of, then he worried about the damaged to the property. Paperwork and reports came after.

Munakata worked efficiently, and in half the day, it seemed like everything was in order. Though he showed no signs of pain, Awashima finally sent him to a doctor to actually be treated. Fushimi had watched him the whole time, and besides the usual glances and smiles in his direction, nothing had changed. Except now, whenever Munakata looked at him, Fushimi got butterflies all over his stomach.

He tried to ignore the feelings, as they meant nothing. The last thing ordered by Munakata before he left was that he wanted all the members to take a psych evaluation, and Fushimi couldn’t help but think that Munakata might be the one who needed it the most.

A few months passed, and the headquarters had been rebuilt and everything functioned as efficiently as ever. Fushimi began to wonder if his assessment was wrong about his King. If, in fact, Munakata really could compartmentalize everything pretty well.

Fushimi chided himself for the fact that he kept alert for anything that might indicate his King had feelings for him. His mind was unable to think of anything else but that single touch of Munakata’s hand on his cheek. It made his stomach jump every time. Once, as he was trying to sleep, the thoughts that brewed butterflies in his stomach made him get hard and his loins ache. Flushing red, Fushimi had stroked his himself and used his fingers for penetration until he got release. He’d buried his hot face into a pillow. He was thinking about his _King_. Frowning, Fushimi forced his speeding heart to steady and to finally go to sleep without a second thought.

“Fushimi-kun, I would like you to be my boyfriend.” Munakata said on the third month.

They were alone in the break room, but Fushimi’s face flushed red and he dropped the mug of coffee he was holding. The ceramic mug shattered loudly, and the hot coffee spilled all over the floor. Steam rose from the ground for a moment before the liquid cooled. Fushimi stared at his Captain incredulously.

“What?”

“I would like to go out with you, if that is agreeable to you.” Munakata’s expression was steady, and he was getting some napkins.

Fushimi stared at him. His face was hot, and his heart pounded, adrenaline coursing through him. He was at a loss for words. When Munakata rose from wiping and gathering the broken pieces and throwing them away, Fushimi felt his heart leap when their eyes met. His mind managed to race, and small memories piqued through the fog. Munakata getting him coffee. Munakata holding the door for him. Munakata brushing their hands when no one was looking. All things that Fushimi had caught but dismissed. His Captain did that all the time, but he certain could be subtle just as much as he could be direct, like he was being now. Had that been him _courting_ him?

Flushing and throat tight, Fushimi finally managed to find his voice. “Is that appropriate?” He was glad he hadn’t stuttered.

“I suppose that depends who you ask. A simple no would have sufficed. I’m sorry to have bothered you, Fushimi-kun.”

As he turned to leave, panic sent in, and Fushimi reached over and gripped the sleeve of Munakata’s coat.

“That’s not what I said…” When Munakata turned to barely look at him, one eyebrow arched, Fushimi clicked his tongue. “Tsk… I would like that…Captain.”

Munakata smiled, it was a please and triumphant smile unlike any Fushimi had seen before, and it made his stomach flip. He scolded himself internally for how hot his face was.

“You’ve made me quite happy to hear you say that.”

It was Awashima who figured it out. They hadn’t told anyone and were as discrete as possible. It was easy to hide it at first. Their dating and seeing each other happened off work, but after they’d started having sex a few months in. though they were careful about lingering touches, their bodies naturally always gravitated and angled towards the other. They snuck a soft kiss or hand squeeze here and there when they were alone, and though they had never been caught, one day they just knew that she knew.

It was just the way she looked at them and seemed to get their own hints and body language, as if she had come to learn their language. And they knew that she knew that they knew she knew, but no one ever said anything. Much like how they all knew she and Kusanagi were involved somehow.

The first few months Fushimi hadn’t noticed. It had been strange, to sleep in the Captain’s quarters or for him to sleep in Fushimi’s room. More often than not they spent their time in Munakata’s room. Not just because it was bigger, Fushimi still wasn’t entirely comfortable sharing his room with Munakata that way, and Munakata respected that.

Fushimi was always spent after the sex. It had been strange to get accustomed to being intimate, but Munakata had been slow and gentle with him. Even after months it was strange. Fushimi had never honestly seen himself with anybody, yet sudden he found that he did with Munakata. And even as it was happening it was surreal. To have them both naked… The Captain on top of him…inside him. His movements always slow and careful but precise and always filling Fushimi with pleasure. He’d wrap his legs around Munakata’s waist, his fingers digging into Munakata’s shoulders or back…gripping his hair.

Their slick bodies covered in sweat when it was all over. Fushimi always fell asleep to loving murmurs against his hair and neck, feeling Munakata’s slender fingers softly stroking and twirling Fushimi’s soft hair. He never asked, but Fushimi was glad Munakata always held him close. He wouldn’t admit it, but Fushimi loved being held…cuddled.

The first few times, Fushimi had slept through it. But he awoke one night hearing Munakata out of breath, and before he could turn around and ask him what was wrong, he’d stood up and gone to the bathroom. When he’d come back, and Fushimi stared at him expectantly, Munkata just assured him there was nothing wrong and they should go back to sleep.

The second time, Fushimi had awoken to the same ragged breathing, but this time he lay still and remained quiet to see if there was anything he could figure out. Munakata lay in bed next to him for a moment before he got up and got dressed and left. Fushimi wasn’t sure what to make of it, and he stayed up until Munakata showed up two and half hours later.

There was a brief flash of surprise on his expression when he noticed Fushimi staring at him. “Fushimi-kun. You’re awake.”

“Where did you go?” He asked. He said nothing when Munakata lay back down with all his clothes on, leaving Fushimi the only one naked.

“To see someone.” Muanakata said, as he wrapped his arms around Fushimi. As Fushimi began to wonder who that could possibly be, especially at this hour, Munakata added softly. “Suoh.”

The name made Fushimi’s heart jump, and his muscles tensed slightly. He looked up at his Captain, whose eyes were already closed as he already drifted off to sleep. At least he had been honest. Fushimi had never once gone to Mikoto’s grave, and truth be told, the thought had never even crossed his mind. But Munakata and Mikoto had had a strange relationship. Fushimi couldn’t deny that, because despite all of their differences, he knew that Munakata had had a deep respect for the Red King.

Fushimi had been unable to sleep the rest of the night as he wondered how many times Munakata had gone to see Mikoto’s grave. As he pondered the real implications killing Mikoto had done to Munakata. They had been almost friends, after all, and Mikoto had put Munakata in a situation that even as he thought about it now, Fushimi couldn’t fathom wrapping his mind around.

He watched his sleeping King’s serene expression. He wondered about everything he was shouldering and bearing on his own, especially now that he had taken it upon himself to take care of the Slate. Munakata had gone to see a psychologist as well eventually, just as he’d made the others do. Fushimi had always been expecting a serious call from Awashima, hearing her voice saying the psychologist had reached out to her, concerned for their Captain. But that never happened. He supposed that Munakata just had known what to say. He had been cleared after only a couple of weeks.

Fushimi understood, now, though. He had _killed_ someone. Someone he had tried so desperately to save. Of course he wasn’t fine. And though Fushimi knew Munakata would never say it, he had a feeling that he worried about the Red clan, and not just that they must hate him now, or see him like a monster. But they were Kingless. Fushimi wondered how it was possible for a single person to shoulder such burdens and not break. His King never ceased to amaze him.

The next time Fushimi was awoken to his Captain’s night terrors, he was the first one awake. For a second he watched his King’s face contorted in pain and anguish. The sight made his heart jump and then squeeze in alarm. Munakata was covered in cold sweat, his clothes and sheets sticking to him. Fushimi had just been about to reach over and wake him Munakata bolted up with loud gasps.

“Captain?”

It was almost as if he couldn’t hear him, but Fushimi couldn’t see or feel any of it. Not the thick, red blood, hot on Munakata’s hands. Not the weight of Mikoto’s body on him, uttering his last words…his last breath. Munakata’s hands were trembling, and Fushimi inched closer.

“Captain…?” His tone was laced with worry. He reached over and held his left hand and tried again. “Sir?” Nothing. Fushimi swallowed thickly. “Reisi.” Fushimi couldn’t stop his voice from quivering slightly in his worry. It was the first time he’d also used his King’s first name.

Munakata blinked a couple of times, and his far-off gaze slowly returned. Whatever demons had been haunting him, they were gone now. He turned to look at Fushimi’s worried and pained expression. His hand instinctively held onto Fushimi’s once he’d felt it there in his hand.

“Fushimi-kun?”

“You’re not well, Captain.” Fushimi said, his voice almost a whisper.

Munakata stared at him briefly, his eyes seeming to glow in the moonlight. He turned away and looked down at his right hand. “I suppose you’re right… I’m not well.”

Fushimi moved closer to his King’s side, and he squeezed his hand a bit more. “You’re not alone, sir. I’m here.”

If anything, if not anyone else, then Fushimi would be the one who would help shoulder his King’s burdens. When his King didn’t say anything, didn’t refuse or even acknowledge Fushimi’s proposal, he reached over his other hand and cupped Munakata’s cheek. His thumb grazing softly on his cheek in a soft caress. Munakata turned to look at him then.

“I’m here, sir.” Fushimi said again. “You can count on me. Do you need to talk?”

He wasn’t going to talk to anyone else, Fushimi knew this. But at least in private, here with him, Munakata could let himself unravel. It occurred to him, suddenly, that he had never seen his King cry. Fushimi wasn’t sure if he wanted to, but if it helped him mourn properly…if it stopped him from burying all those feelings, if it helped him let go… Then it’s what Munakata needed.

“Do you trust me?” Fushimi asked. He was reminded that, even though he no longer had the tattoo on his chest, Munakata still treated the scars and burns on his chest with care and delicacy. Munakata had scars Fushimi couldn’t see, but he would be just as careful and gentle.

“Unequivocally.”

Fushimi let go of Munakata’s hand. He pulled his other away from his cheek, and he hugged Munakata tightly.

“Then _trust_ me. Lean on me, sir. Let me be here for you. Let me carry this burden with you.”

“Fushimi-kun—.”

“It’s okay.” Fushimi interrupted him. He held on tighter, gripping onto his back, but then rubbing gently and offering smooth comfort, “It’s okay…” He whispered again.

He felt Munakata wrap his arms around him then. The hug was gentle at first, then Munakata tightened their embrace. Fushimi felt the soft trembles before anything else, and that alone made him tear up, his heart break. He cursed himself for not having seen it sooner. For not having been there for him. He blinked his own tears away. He had to be strong for Munakata, like Munakata was strong for him time and time again.

Munakata buried his face into Fushimi’s neck, and Fushimi reached over and ran a hand softly through his King’s hair. He ignored the way his heart squeeze hearing his Captain’s ragged breathing. Eventually he did feel the wetness of tears against his neck and shoulder, but he didn’t let go.

When Munakata stopped crying, they stayed in their embrace a moment longer. Fushimi would let him pull away when he wanted, when he was ready.

“Thank you, Fushimi-kun.” He said as he slowly pulled away.

Fushimi reached up and stroked his cheeks, softly removing the tears from there. “Any time, Captain.”

Munakata smiled at him, it was his gentle smile, the one reserved for Fushimi alone. He blushed and felt his heart jump. When Fushimi put his hands down, Munakata leaned down and kissed him softly. Fushimi gasped slightly into the initial kiss, but he kissed back gently. He let Munakata lead the kiss, as he so often did, and he had to admit he liked the tender kisses just as much as the wild and heated ones. Fushimi was concentrating on the feel of his Captain’s lips… the taste of his tongue…when Munakata pulled away.

“I love you, Fushimi-kun.” He said tenderly against his lips.

The words made Fushimi snap his eyes wide open, and he stared at his King in alarm. His face was flushed, and his heart was pounding faster than ever making his whole body warm. Munakata was smiling at him that caring smile. That smile that was too loving it was almost cruel. Fushimi’s eyes teared slightly, his heart squeezed, and his lungs did too. It was almost as if he couldn’t breathe.

“I love you.” Munakata repeated.

He felt the few streams of tears slip down his cheek, and Fushimi wiped them away angrily. Why was he crying?

“Tsk…” He couldn’t meet his Captain’s gaze, but already he could feel him getting ready to say that it was fine if Fushimi didn’t feel that way or wasn’t ready to say it yet. He turned to look up at him, heart hammering against his chest. “I do too… I love you… My King.”

Munakata let out a soft chuckle of approval. He leaned down and kissed Fushimi gently again, and it made Fushimi’s heart go wild and erratic.

“I’m the one who’s supposed to be comforting you.” He protested lightly against Munakata’s lips, irritated more with himself.

His King chuckled softly again. “You are…And you did quite well, Fushimi-kun.”

“Mmm…”

The two held each other in silence the rest of the night until dawn began to break. The darkness outside lifting with the crack of the sun shining and illuminating everything in a soft orange glow.

“Do you wish to come with me?” Munakata said.

“Where?” Fushimi asked.

He rested his head against Munakata’s shoulder. The golden blanket of the sun beginning to stream in through the window, it was warm despite being fall. Fushimi had never felt safe before, not really, not until he’d met Munakata, and even more so when he was in his arms. Misaki had become his sanctuary when they’d met; but Munakata was more than that. He’d become Fushimi’s sanctuary and home. The words from earlier ran through Fushimi’s mind, and his stomach was filled with butterflies. He was feeling warm, but it wasn’t because of the sun.

“To visit Suoh.”

Fushimi almost turned him down, but he knew Munakata was trusting him, was doing exactly what Fushimi had asked him to do only hours before. He was leaning on him.

“Okay.”

When they got to the cemetery where Mikoto had been laid to rest, Fushimi hesitated at the gates for a moment before forcing himself to follow. But even when they got there, Fushimi stayed a few yards away. He had known Mikoto, but still almost felt nothing for his death; his former Red King. He watched as Munakata knelt beside his tombstone and lay some flowers on his grave.

Munakata bowed his head and placed his hands together. Fushimi watched, and wondered what sorts of prayers he was whispering. After a moment, Munakata let his hands fall and he stared up at the sky. Fushimi could hear him talking, but he knew they weren’t prayers. He was having a conversation with Mikoto. He wondered what it was that he was saying; his King’s voice was soft, and he was standing too far away to hear. When Munakata stood and brushed the dirt off his pants, Fushimi didn’t ask him about it.

“Thank you for coming with me, Fushimi-kun.”

Fushimi nodded. “Any time, sir.”

The nights weren’t as restless for Munakata, but he had an occasional episode. Or even when he was having a particularly bad day dealing with the heavy thoughts of remembering what he’d done, he’d go to Fushimi to talk, or even just be in his company. But Fushimi was glad that he’d instilled that trust and sense of safety in his Captain.

He knew Munakata went to see Mikoto at least once a week, but it had been a couple of months since their visit that he’d asked Fushimi to come with him. He didn’t mind, or care, really. It was Munakata’s way of coping and healing, his own private time with a former friend. But when he asked Fushimi again to come wit him, again Fushimi said yes, this time with no hesitation.

It was snowing softly that day. They walked beside each other in silence. Fushimi was slightly hunched over in his jacket and scarf, trying to keep warm, ignoring the fact that he could do so with his Red aura. The footsteps made soft crunches in the snow. Some of the snow that drifted down caught onto them, their hair and clothes, before melting. Big puffs of their breath clouded in front of them with every breath.

This time Fushimi felt comfortable enough going with Munakata all the way to Mikoto’s grave. He stood beside his King. Even in the snow, Munakata knelt to do his prayer and rest the new bouquet of flowers. When he was done, he brushed off the snow on the tombstone. When Munakata looked up and began to speak to him, Fushimi was surprised by what it was that he talked to Mikoto about.

Fushimi watched his King and listened to him talk about Kusanagi, and Yata, and the Red clan’s new King, Anna. Munakata talked with care and enthusiasm and pride. For the Red clan. He wasn’t sure why, but it made Fushimi’s heart swell and his throat tighten. Fushimi’s heart was fluttering fast, and he wondered how he could have been so lucky, how he ended up with someone like Munakata.

Fushimi’s thoughts were distracted for a moment as he thought about how even though Anna didn’t blame Munakata for doing what he did, she hadn’t exactly forgiven him. He knew that was a new toll for Munakata to take on, and, even though it was small, the crack that had now appeared on Munakata’s Sword of Damocles. His heart beat fast, but now with fear for his King, for everything he had to endure. Fushimi wondered briefly, if Mikoto had also had to endure such things, and it was why the two had understood each other so well, on a level unlike the others.

Munakata stood up and brushed the snow from his pants. He turned to Fushimi and smiled softly.

“Let’s go get hot cocoa.”

Fushimi nodded, and he felt his heart flutter when Munakata took one of his hands, lacing their fingers together. As they walked back, and Fushimi caught sight of Misaki on the other side of the cemetery also making his way to Mikoto’s grave. He was staring at them, shocked, and though Fushimi didn’t make it clear that he’d seen his former Red clansman, he couldn’t help a soft smirk.

He wondered if Misaki had been shocked to see them there, to see them visiting Mikoto, or if it had been the sight of the two holding hands. Fushimi couldn’t be sure, but there was a chance that his King and Misaki would have run into each other, if not, then there was a chance Misaki had seen the flowers left there by Munakata and wondered who it was that had come.

Fushimi stopped thinking about him. It wasn’t like they were on those terms again; he had helped with Anna, but so what? And he didn’t expect Misaki to seek him out to ask about his relationship with Munakata. But…now that he was thinking about it, Fushimi would at least let himself admit that he missed his friend… That it would be nice to have someone to talk to about his relationship with Munakata.

“What is it, Fushimi-kun?” Munakata asked as they got to the small coffee shop.

He held the door open for Fushimi, and the two walked in. Fushimi tried to ignore the fact that his heart fluttered with how his Captain ordered his hot cocoa just the way Fushimi liked it—mini marshmallows and cinnamon powder at the top-- when he paid at the end, how in control he was. It wasn’t until they’d ordered and gotten their drinks and were already outside that Fushimi answered.

It was difficult to be honest. But if Munakata was trying, then he had to too. He held the cup close to his chest, letting its heat warm him. He stared down at the top as the steam floated up peacefully. “I miss Misaki.”

He looked up to see Munakata smiling a gentle, but also knowing smile. Fushimi’s heart jumped, and his face flushed. He couldn’t help a soft glare at his King.

“If you miss him, why not tell him?”

“I can’t,” Fushimi said, staring again at his to-go cup of hot cocoa. “If it had been that easy, you and Mikoto-san wouldn’t have fought all the time.”

“True, but you and Yata-kun are not Suoh and me.”

Also true, but Fushimi said nothing, and he was glad Munakata didn’t push it further, though he knew in his gut that Munakata would bring it up again later. His King could be stubborn and persistent like that, especially when he cared. Fushimi brought up the cup and took a sip of the hot drink letting its warmth spread though him. Munakata watched him, and when Fushimi was done, he spoke.

“What?”

“I love you, Saruhiko.”

Fushimi’s eyes widened, and he felt a shiver go through him hearing his Captain say his first name for the first time. The grip on his cup had loosened, but before it could fall, Munakata stepped closer and leaned in, grabbing it. Not a single drop spilled. Fushimi stared in awe, then looked back up at his King.

“You have a habit of dropping your drinks, Saruhiko.” Munakata chuckled tenderly.

Fushimi’s cheeks burned intensely, “Shut up.” His insides felt like mush, and his body was tingly hearing Munakata say his name like that. Casually. Endearingly. If he had been drinking when Munakata had said that, he would have choked on his cocoa. Now he took the drink firmly in his hands and made a show of taking big gulps just to avoid looking at Munakata who only chuckled again, amused.

Fushimi glared at him softly once he pulled the drink away from his face. His heart pounded, face still blushing deep red.

“I love you too…Reisi.” He hadn’t spoken his Captain’s first name since that night.

The smile on Munakata’s face spread wider; he looked like a happy child, and it irritated Fushimi, especially since it made his heart flutter uncontrollably. With his left hand, the one not holding his own drink, Munakata snaked his arm around Fushimi’s waist and pulled him. Fushimi’s heart jumped. Munakata leaned down and kissed him softly, and he kissed back weakly.

“I love you, Saruhiko.” Munakata said again against his lips, a whisper.

Fushimi could hear the smile in his voice, and he let out a soft and involuntary mewl. It was only making his heart pound more and his flush remain kindled. He knew what was going to happen tonight. Fushimi kissed him again softly but passionately. They tasted like each other and sweet cocoa. Fushimi pulled away only slightly just to breath. Their breaths mingled together, clouds of smoke indistinguishable.

“I love you too… I love you too, Reisi.”

They pulled away, and Fushimi stared up at his King. His smile was kind and his eyes were gentle. Fushimi hoped that no one saw him as the monster. He knew how Misaki could be, but even though Fushimi didn’t think that any of the Reds truly saw Munakata that way, he knew Munakata had that fear. But how could anyone think of him like that? Maybe one day Fushimi could make him see, make him believe that that wasn’t the case, just like Munakata had helped him and made him believe in so much more.

Hot cocoa in one hand and holding the other’s hand in the other, the two made their way home.

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to write a fic where Fushimi is the one comforting Munakata. I always see it the other way around, but I think it goes both ways. I believe they have a loving and supportive relationship that is mutual. I'm trash for this ship. (*sobs* Crais 5ever.) My love for Munakata is undying and unwavering.


End file.
